Author: Henry David Thoreau (---.spacegate.com.ua)
Date: 01-26-06 04:15
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When I was a kid, a book I read advised young artist to be
themselves. That decided it for me. I was a corny kind of guy, so I went
in for corn. Walt Disney
Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day,
And make me travel forth without my cloak,
To let base clouds o\'ertake me in my way,
Hiding thy bravery in their rotten smoke?
\'Tis not enough that through the cloud thou break,
To dry the rain on my storm-beaten face,
For no man well of such a salve can speak,
That heals the wound, and cures not the disgrace:
Nor can thy shame give physic to my grief;
Though thou repent, yet I have still the loss:
The offender\'s sorrow lends but weak relief
To him that bears the strong offence\'s cross.
Ah! but those tears are pearl which thy love sheds,
And they are rich and ransom all ill deeds.
Above all, we must realize that no arsenal, or no weapon in the arsenals
of the world, is so formidable as the will and moral courage of free men
and women. It is a weapon our adversaries in today\'s world do not have.
Being your slave what should I do but tend,
Upon the hours, and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend;
Nor services to do, till you require.
Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour,
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour,
When you have bid your servant once adieu;
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
Save, where you are, how happy you make those.
So true a fool is love, that in your will,
Though you do anything, he thinks no ill.